More resistance to our work

It is interesting to note that even such experiences failed to make much difference with many people. Other priests at other churches continued to tell people not to come to our meetings because we worked for the devil.

I have been a Catholic all my life, yet even here in Laredo where I was born, my own church continued to say I was working for the devil.
It was not too long, though, before the issue was to come a showdown.

Doctors, too, continued to say that I was practicing medicine without a license, and this caused some embarrassment.

One night my family and I were dining in a restaurant when a doctor came in with his wife. The restaurant was crowded with people that night.

The doctor, smoking a big cigar, spotted me and immediately said in a loud booming voice around the cigar, which he war rotating with his fingers while it was still stuck in his mouth, "Hi , Silva! How is the practicing medicine without a license business coming along?" Then he let out a big laugh.

I let it pass, but to this very day, I still believe that if our wives had not been present, that experience would have had a very different, and difficult, ending.

The whole situation, stirred up by many community leaders, carried over into all aspects of our lives.

Up until 1968, neighbors would not visit my wife and would not allow their children to play with ours because they said we worked with the devil. At school, our children were picked on and told that their father was a devil. All this because we were discovering ways to help people and relieve suffering.

One day as I was in my office a friend came to see me. This was the same man who once told me that I was losing my time by healing people without charging for it. He told me that his brother, who was a city official, was going to die that night.

"But I talked with your brother two days ago," I said.

"That night," my friend told me, "he felt very bad and went to the hospital. They found that his kidneys had stopped functioning and the hospital could not get a dialysis machine."

There was a dialysis machine in a San Antonio hospital, he told me, but that was being used on a patient. In those years, only a few hospitals had dialysis equipment. Meanwhile, our sick man had lapsed into a coma due to urea poisoning in his brain.

As soon as my friend left the office, I went to the hospital to see his brother. I got there very quickly since the hospital is only six blocks from my office. I had to enter through the emergency entrance, because if a doctor had seen me entering through the front door, he would have called the police to run me away.

When I got to the room of the sick official, his mother and sister were present. I told them a little white lie. I said I was sent by the Cursillo movement to pray for him. It was true that I once belonged to that movement, but not at that time. The Cursillo movement is a Christian organization that holds weekend retreats and presents short courses on Christianity.

The mother told me that the doctors had tried all day to bring her son out of the coma, but had failed. Doctors had given them little hope that he would live.

I then said, "Excuse me, I will now say my prayers."

I stood on the patient's right side, next to the bed, and went into my meditation-concentration (my clairvoyant) level. Then I made believe someone, somehow was listening to what I was saying mentally.

I was saying, in my mind, "This man is thirty-four years old. He has a big, strong body and there is much work to be done on this planet. I don't believe it is justified that because his kidneys stopped functioning, he has to go. All his other organs, glands and systems are young and functioning well. Why not let us get the kidneys to function again."

As I was saying this mentally, our sick official sat up in bed, looked at me with the eyes of a somnambulist (a sleepwalker), the whites of the eyes now turned yellowish with the urea poisoning, recognized me and said,

"Hi, Jose, what are you doing here?"

I answered, "What are you doing here?"

He responded, "Where am I?"

"You are in the right place," I answered. "Close your eyes, go back to sleep and everything is going to be all right."

He closed his eyes, fell back on the pillow and appeared to go back into a coma.

The mother told her daughter to run and get the doctor and tell him what had happened. As soon as she said that, I thought, "I had better run, too, and I had better do it before the doctor comes or else I might wind up in the district attorney's office again!"

Two hours later, the sick official started to pass urine, his kidneys started to function normally, and at this writing he is still alive.

The nuns at the hospital named the city official, "The Miracle Kid." He never remembered having talked to me, even after his mother told him what had happened.

One day a woman came to our place to see if one of our clairvoyants could tell her something about her daughter. We assigned a nine-year-old girl who was a good clairvoyant.

Our clairvoyant went to her level immediately and started to check the woman's daughter health-wise. After a while our clairvoyant said, "This woman seems to be all right health-wise." Then she said, "The heart is beating very rapidly. Let me see why.

"I am going to check her blood chemistry," our young clairvoyant said. "

The blood check shows a white substance that is not supposed to be there." Our clairvoyant motioned as though she were tasting the substance and said, "It is alcohol. This woman is drunk." Then she added,

"She is an alcoholic."

As I looked at the mother, she nodded and said, "Yes, that is her problem.

My daughter left home and took her daughter with her and we don't know where they are.”

I then said to our clairvoyant, "Ask her why she drinks."

Our clairvoyant then motioned as if she were talking to her and then said, "It is because of her daughter."

"What about her daughter?" I asked the clairvoyant.

"She cannot speak."

I turned to the mother, who confirmed this.

I then told the clairvoyant to see why the child could not talk. She examined the child's vocal cords and told us the child had only one vocal cord. Then the clairvoyant age regressed the child mentally to the child's point of birth and said, "The child was born with only one vocal cord."

There were many interesting incidents like this in our research.

Next: A showdown comes